Dangerous Days: Boxed Set (A Zombie Apocalypse Survival Thriller Books 1-4)

by Baileigh Higgins

  “Rosa?”

  “She’s gone,” Hannah replied.

  “Was anyone else injured?”

  “Doesn’t look like it, no.”

  Julianne took a shuddering breath then squared her shoulders. “I think everyone who came in contact with the infected should be examined just in case.”

  “Good thinking,” Jonathan replied. “Hannah and I will see to it.”

  “Thanks.”

  For the better part of an hour, Julianne ran around coordinating people’s efforts. Joseph and his team repaired the outer fences and gates. Max and a few others got to work on the inner gates while Kirstin watched over them all. Michelle looked after the kids, and Elise, Joanna, Tumi, and Erica prepared a hot meal for everyone. Everybody else was relegated to grave duty.

  Julianne pitched in too. Wrinkling her nose, she tugged at the trouser leg of an infected and rolled it onto a stretcher. Her back screamed when she bent to pick up the ends, but she pushed onward. At the designated field, she dumped the body. Lenka added it to the pile of burning corpses.

  Thick smoke hung in the air. It coated the inside of her nostrils and burned her eyes. Fine ash sifted down, smearing her skin and clothes with streaks of charcoal.

  She went back and repeated the procedure. Over and over. It was brutal labor, and nobody spoke, each occupied by their tasks.

  The sun dropped toward the horizon. The sky grew dim, and mosquitoes emerged to plague them. Julianne slapped at one on her neck, her hand coming away bloody. At last, the job was done.

  “Is that the last of it?” she asked her son.

  “Yes, that’s it,” Max replied.

  “The gates?”

  “Fixed. For now.” His shoulders slumped, and he looked as tired as she felt. As they all did. “We’ll carry on tomorrow, but for now it’s time to get inside. We’ve done all we can.”

  Elise and a few others brought buckets of water to wash with and bottled water to drink. She sipped on the clear liquid with relief, leaning back to ease the ache in her lower back.

  Afterward, she trooped back inside with the others, heading to the common room for a plate of hot food before checking on Breytenbach. He still slept, unaware of their peril. She brushed her hands across his forehead. “Wake soon, Christo. We need you.”

  That night, she slept in her bed with the children. The attack had made her extra protective, and she would not leave them alone again. Despite her exhaustion, she struggled to sleep. Every sound made her sit upright; every rustle shocked her awake. The soft breathing of Meghan and Sam filled her ears, and fear for their safety cut through her breast. The thought of losing them, kept her up, staring wide-eyed into the night.

  When she drifted off, at last, it was with a gun clutched in both hands. I can’t let anything happen to them. I just can’t.

  Chapter 14 - Logan

  A week had passed since Logan found the isolated farmhouse where they’d taken refuge, and he itched to move on. He hadn’t stayed in one place for more than three days in a very long time. The sense of despair that followed him around wherever he went now settled over him like a blanket, suffocating in its totality.

  Still, he knew Nadia wasn’t ready. Her hands were healing, and she’d recovered from the fever, but it was far too soon to leave. If they were attacked, she’d be hard-pressed to defend herself. And if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that he enjoyed the peace.

  Ever since the in-depth talk they’d had, the two of them had settled into a quiet routine. Logan, always an early riser, patrolled the extensive grounds every day and eliminated any stray zombies that got too close. He’d also set up his usual alarm system, the pebbled cans strung around the yard on a line. So far, no infected had triggered it.

  This daily activity meant that he had to refrain from drinking the hard stuff until at least mid-afternoon. A fact that at first proved harrowing but got easier as the days passed. Now he looked forward to not being shit-faced by ten in the morning. He still started off his day with a few beers, however, and hit the bottle at night. He needed it, or else he’d go crazy.

  At the far end of the grounds, Logan paused to admire the scene before him. It was a beautiful day. The kind that made your blood sing through your veins. The air was crisp. The sun hung fat and lazy in the crystal clear sky.

  He turned and made his way back toward the house, stomach growling in anticipation of lunch. Another new development. It seemed his legendary appetite was making a comeback.

  Logan pushed open the front door and walked inside. The sounds of cooking emanated from the kitchen, and his stride quickened in anticipation. Nadia stood with her back to him, wielding a spatula. The pan sizzled.

  He inhaled the delicious scents appreciatively and slouched down in a chair. “What’s cooking?”

  Nadia tossed a reply over her shoulder. “Bully beef and pap.”

  Logan grinned. “Just what I like to hear.”

  Nadia placed a heaping plate in front of him along with a cup of coffee. He eyed the pile of thick porridge topped with corned beef and gravy with appreciation.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled, shoving a huge forkful into his mouth. Nadia sat down opposite him, and he stopped mid-chew. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “Nothing.” A note of defensiveness crept into her voice.

  “You look…different.”

  “You mean this?” Nadia blushed, running a hand through her short locks. “I cut it, that’s all.”

  “All?”

  The spiky black do was gone, replaced by her natural white blonde hair cut close to the scalp. It made her look younger and was offset by her pale skin and vivid blue eyes. Even more jarring was the lack of jewelry decorating her face. Most of it was gone, except the cross around her neck, a pair of studs in each ear, and another in her nose.

  Nadia shrugged, lowering her eyes to her plate. “I thought it was time for a change.”

  Logan considered her answer, noting the plain long sleeved top she wore. “What happened to your old clothes?”

  “I tossed them.”

  That was a surprise. After the first day, she’d eschewed wearing the clothes he’d gotten her, preferring her things instead. They were ‘too girly,’ he believed. “Any particular reason for this sudden change?”

  “No reason.”

  “It mightn’t have something to do with wanting to fit in at a particular camp?” This was a touchy subject. At various times, Nadia had expressed both eagerness and fear at the idea of joining his old group. He suspected she was scared they wouldn’t accept her for who she was, despite his many assurances to the contrary.

  “Nope.”

  ‘If you say so.” His eyes narrowed. “I kind of liked punk Nadia, though.”

  “Yeah well, there’s more to me than clothes, you know.” Her voice grew testy, and Logan decided to drop the subject.

  Besides, she did look pretty with the new look. Silence fell as they both dug into their food. The full plates emptied fast.

  “Got room for more?” Nadia asked when she’d swallowed her last bite.

  She was every bit as big an eater as Logan, and he wondered where she put it all. “You know I do.”

  She fetched the pan, dividing the leftover corned beef between their plates. Logan smothered a grin when he spotted the leopard print bra strap peeking out beneath her shirt, and the battered biker boots buckled over her skinny jeans. Glad to see not everything has changed.

  “So,” she said, clearing her throat. “We’re running low on food.”

  “I’m not surprised considering the rate at which we eat,” he grunted.

  “We’ve got some dried goods left. Maize meal, rice, pasta, spices, that sort of thing, but the cans are wiped out.”

  “Time to go hunting then.”

  “Hunting?” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Hunt what?”

  “Springbok, of course. I spotted fresh spoor over by the creek earlier.” He swallowed the last bite and smiled. “We can l
eave after breakfast.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, we. It’s time you earned your keep instead of eating your head off all day. You’re getting fat.”

  “I am not!” she gasped.

  “True. But you could use some fun, I’m sure.”

  “Hunting and killing an innocent animal is not my idea of fun.” She leaned back in her chair, a look of disgust twisting her features.

  “You need to eat, don’t you?” Logan asked, ever practical. “Besides, where do you think the meat in that can came from? The air?”

  She frowned, picking at the remaining corned beef on her plate with her fork. “Still, I’ve never hunted before.”

  Logan swallowed his last sip of coffee and got up, chair scraping across the floor. “Then it’s time you learn.”

  She sputtered, but after taking one look at his stern face, she finished her food in a hurry. “Fine. Let’s go then.”

  He handed her an empty backpack and a pistol with a holster on a belt, watching as she put it on.

  “Wearing anything scented?”

  “No, why would I?” She arched an eyebrow at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Animals can smell you. You’ll spook them and cost us the hunt.”

  “Really?” she asked, seeming intrigued.

  “Yup. Now let’s go before we lose even more time.”

  Logan set off for the spot where he’d seen the spoor earlier, his rifle and another empty pack slung across his back. Nadia followed, picking her way across the uneven ground with a heavy tread.

  “Try to be a little quieter, please. You sound like a wounded buffalo.”

  “I do not,” she protested.

  “Try to follow my example. Graceful. Like a swan. I’m sure even you could manage if you tried.”

  “Oh, please. You? A swan?” She stuck her tongue out at him, an action he chose to ignore.

  He walked on, then smirked when her steps grew quieter. She’ll learn.

  After they’d walked a while, he stopped beside a native bush. It was a low plant with succulent green leaves spread across the ground. He hunkered down and indicated to Nadia to join him.

  “This is a good plant to know. It’s called Purslane. Or iGwanisha in Xhosa.“

  “What does it do?” Nadia asked.

  “It’s food.” Logan plucked a leaf and chewed on it, the delicate fresh flavor filling his mouth. “It’s nutritious and pretty tasty too.” He held out a leaf to her. “Try it.”

  Nadia took it with a doubtful expression, placing it on her tongue with hesitation. She chewed, face screwed up, until her expression changed, relaxing into one of delight. “It’s good!”

  “Told you,” Logan replied, stuffing handfuls of the stuff into his pack. “This will go well with steak for supper.”

  They set off again. This time, Nadia walked beside him, growing more and more interested in the environment around them. He pointed out other plants and their uses for her: Rosemary, wild mint, hoodia, and aloe.

  Logan found it surprisingly fun to teach Nadia about nature. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be out in the bush, foraging, hunting, surviving. This was what he preferred above all else, and the thing he’d missed the most during his time with Max and the others.

  Though he’d been prepared to give up this way of life for Morgan’s sake, he now felt his muscles ease back into their old habits. His body instinctively moved like that of a hunter.

  He decided to expand on the lessons, showing Nadia where to look for water, and how to pick a camping spot. By the time they reached the buck spoor, Nadia was chattering like a squirrel and asking a million questions about everything they encountered.

  “Look here,” he said, pointing at the ground. “This is the buck’s scat, and over there is a hoof print.”

  Logan went onward, teaching Nadia the basics of tracking. He pointed at overturned stones, chewed twigs and bruised leaves. He knew they were close. Placing his finger to his lips, he gestured to Nadia to hunker down and keep quiet. “Follow me.”

  He crept closer, staying downwind until he spotted the herd grazing in a clearing. There weren’t many of them. Logan counted twelve in the bunch, ears flicking back and forth as they listened for danger.

  Silence blanketed the humid clearing, broken by the occasional sound of a stomping hoof. He selected a young male grazing off to the side and raised his rifle. The shot blasted through the clearing. The buck jumped into the air and ran three steps before crashing to the ground. “Got you.”

  Nadia watched, mouth hanging open in awe as the rest of the herd fled. Their lithe bodies bound through the air with their trademark gait. One designed to throw predators off as they switched direction in mid-air, leaping like hares.

  Logan smiled, a warm feeling growing inside at the rapt expression on her face. “Come on.”

  He jogged over to the fallen buck and unsheathed his knife. Kneeling next to the carcass, he examined it.

  “Is it dead?” Nadia asked.

  Logan pointed out the bullet hole behind the shoulder blade, leaking blood. “Shot through the heart.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes grew large. “Now what?”

  “Now we butcher it.” With those words, Logan leaned forward and gutted the buck. Its steaming innards spilled onto the ground.

  Nadia grew pale and backed away. Logan chuckled as he pulled a cloth from his backpack and spread it on the ground. He dug out the liver, kidneys, and heart.

  “Tonight we feast,” he said, placing the organs on the material. Both his hands were coated with the fresh hot blood. Nadia whirled around and threw up once more.

  “Keep watch for zombies. They’ll be drawn to the gunshot,” he said, ignoring her weak stomach.

  “Okay.”

  Logan worked fast and peeled back the skin to reveal the deep red muscle underneath. With the expertise that came from long years of practice, he cut the meat into strips and piled it onto the cloth.

  “Here. Stuff this in your backpack,” he commanded.

  The only answer he got was more retching.

  Chapter 15 - Ronnie

  Ronnie shook his head to clear the cobwebs that clung, fogging his perception. He’d spent hours on the wall, keeping watch before snatching three hours of sleep. Now he was up before dawn and outside the grounds with only a single cup of coffee to fuel him.

  On stiff legs, he knelt down to trace his fingers over the indentations left by the horde that had attacked them the previous day. Dew drops clung to the flattened grass, shivering like crystal beads in the morning breeze.

  Goosebumps checkered his arms, the skin pebbling in the chill air. He brushed off his hands and straightened up. The veldt stretched out around him, the passage of the horde apparent by the swath of flattened brush they’d left in their wake.

  “Well, at least it’s not hard to tell where they came from,” Mike said, picking his way between stones and tussocks.

  “Question is, why did they come this way?” Ronnie asked. “What drew them here?”

  “Beats me,” Mike replied. “Maybe they got hungry and went looking for a hamburger. Maybe they decided to take a walk. Who knows?”

  Ronnie ignored the flippant remarks and turned back to studying the trail again. Something nagged at his thoughts, like an itch that couldn’t be scratched. I’m missing something.

  Mike walked past him, sipping from a silver flask. The pungent smell of whiskey reached Ronnie’s nostrils. “Really, Mike? It’s not even seven in the morning yet.”

  Mike shrugged. “Do you blame me? I need something to fortify me.”

  “You need to stay alert,” Ronnie said.

  “Relax,” Mike said. “You can count on me.”

  “Whatever,” Ronnie replied, suppressing a surge of irritation. Taking command of the team had proved harder than he thought. While Mike had respect for him, their friendship made it difficult. Mike simply did not have the same regard for authority toward Ronnie as he did w
ith the Captain.

  Ronnie’s feet led back along the trail left by the horde, his eyes roving the ground for clues. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he was sure it was there. Call it a gut feeling.

  At the edge of a dirt track curving through the terrain, he paused. Where it led was anybody’s guess. Probably a farm or the main road. What caught his eye though, was what he found on the rough track.

  He knelt down and reached out to pick up the object between his thumb and forefinger. A thousand questions milled through his brain, screaming for answers.

  His thoughts were interrupted by Kirstin’s calm voice at his shoulder. “What have you found?”

  Ronnie shook his head. “When I know the answer to that, I’ll tell you.”

  He pocketed the item then stood and trudged back the way he came. Kirstin followed behind him.

  He called out to Lenka and Mike, gathering up the little group. “Let’s go, guys. The objective today is guns and ammo. We need more firepower.”

  “Gotcha,” Mike replied, throwing him a lazy salute matched by a wink. Neither Kirstin nor Lenka said a word.

  They all climbed into Tallulah, and Ronnie settled behind the wheel. A twist of the key started the engine, and he drove off. The camp and its inhabitants faded from view, and his sense of responsibility grew. We’d better get this right. Everyone depends on us now.

  ***

  Their first stop was the police station. According to Max, Logan and Armand had grabbed only what they could carry during their previous raid. By his reasoning, there should still be plenty left.

  Now Ronnie stared at the entrance to the station, perplexed. He opened the door and slipped out, his feet carrying him nearer. He paused and studied the scene before him. “What happened here?”

  Corpses lay strewn about, flung to the tar by the force of the bullets that ripped their flesh apart. He studied the bodies. “These were zombies before they died.”

  His eyes lifted toward the police station, and he chewed his bottom lip in worry. “Someone beat us to it, guys.”